


Dead Man's Requiem

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU Timeline, Angst, Blood, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Illness, The Character Death is only temporary, Violence, loosely season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:10:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Oswald felt things were looking up again until Ed's death, he hopes that perhaps having him resurrected could make things go back to the way they were before.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a lot of changes from the series for the most part that will be explained throughout the story, will update the rating, pairings maybe, and characters involved in the story as it goes on.

There was something deeply unsettling about seeing him like that. 

Oswald swallowed hard as he stared down at the body, he reached out with trembling fingers to touch it, to touch him. Maybe just if he touched him then it’d break a spell and none of this would be real, they’d be alive, and either back at each other’s throats or friends. He’d liked it when they had been friends, back when there was potential for them. He closed his eyes tightly when his fingers finally reached his cheek, his skin was going cold. Tears rolled down his cheeks, he turned his head away, but didn’t pull his hand back. He kept it there, needed the confirmation. 

“She was quite thorough in killing him.” Strange commented, he sounded impressed and it made Oswald sick.

He glared up at the man who was intently staring down at Ed’s body. “You told me if I got you out of Blackgate that you can…”

“Resurrect him, yes, and I can.” He replied coolly, momentarily meeting Oswald’s eyes before turning his focus back to the body.

Oswald found it difficult to look down at him, his eyes glazed and unseeing, lips parted, and face stained with blood. He caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, once he started looking at him he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop noticing how torn up his suit was. That hideous green suit that shined like fish scales, he swore the man wore it just to spite him. Blood soaked through his dress shirt turning it almost completely red. 

Things had been looking up for them again, for the first time in a long time. Then this happened. 

He scoffed. He shouldn’t be surprised by this, he hadn’t the slightest clue why he thought he could have happiness. Bad enough he had to have Zsasz take Martin out of Gotham, now that Sophia was on the war path he doubted she had any moral code. 

“You’re going to. If you fail or if you do to him what you did to Fish or Basil Karlo then I swear to God-“

Strange held his hand up, “I won’t, besides you’ve barely given me the supplies necessary to make beautiful creatures like them.” He sighed as he remembered his monsters. “They were things of beauty, it’s a pity they didn’t appreciate the gifts I gave to them.”

Oswald bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from yelling, from telling him that he’d been a bastard to not just play God, but Frankenstein as well. He wanted to blame him for losing Fish despite her death the second time not being his fault, he wanted to blame him for Basil impersonating his father under Ed’s instructions, but that wasn’t his fault either. If he’d left them dead though then none of the bad would have happened.

“My men will be watching you, just do your job, and report to me the second he’s awake.”

Awake. He preferred to think of it that way, it was better than revived. He didn’t want to think of him as dead, just sleeping.

Oswald pet his fingers through Ed’s messed brown hair, he smiled sadly as he looked down at him.

“We’ll be in touch.” Strange stepped towards the metal table placing his hands upon its surface, at the moment he almost loomed over Oswald, and there was something unnerving to the moment.

He wanted to reconsider just for a second, but he was in too deep now. Instead he turned away from the table and left the room accompanied by two of his men, he had a long night ahead of him now that he needed to double down on hunting down Sophia Falcone. He refused to let her get away with torturing and murdering Ed.


	2. Chapter 2

When the earthquakes hit it was sudden. It started as a tremor then grew into a shaking that made most citizens fear that they had reached the end of their time, that God was sick of them and their horrid lifestyles and their greed and was putting an end to them. Buildings collapsed in upon themselves, several towering buildings downtown broke apart like sticks, landing on cars and powerlines, and unfortunately crushing hundreds of people who were too stunned and confused by the sudden quake to realize they should get out of the way. Several streets erupted upwards, water gushing up through the holes in sidewalks, cars slamming into one another. The worst of it was the bridge. People could only watch as it broke down, watched as the cars that filled it going in and out of the city fell down into the river below looking more like toy cars being dumped into a bath tub than real vehicles containing living human beings. 

It felt like hours before it finally subsided, the Earth settled, and God wasn’t smiting them. There was a still silence in the air past the sirens, a moment where nobody knew how to react, but that was broken soon. Screams and shouts began, people running out of what remained of buildings, people out to save themselves while others tried to save those who were trapped beneath the rubble and ruin. 

Oswald was safe inside his mostly intact mansion. Within a minute after the quakes subsided he had his phone out and was calling Victor.

“Where are you?”

“Downtown, it’s seriously crazy here right now you should see it.”

Truthfully, he didn’t want to think about it. He could only imagine how destroyed it all was, the city that he’d been born and raised in.

“Are you near the Lounge?”

Victor snickered, “What’s left of it…. Sorry, but yeah seriously it’s uh kind of wrecked.”

He closed his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to take a deep breath. He felt a lot of his men were dead or severely injured, this wasn’t a time to seriously considering killing Zsasz.

“Dammit” He muttered to himself.

He took a steadying breath and straightened his back, he worked to relax at least as much as he could allow himself to. 

“Do you think it’d be at all possible for you to pick me up and take me to the lab, I need to check on Strange.”

Ed, he needed to check on Ed. For the past week Strange had been informing him that things were coming along fine, that he supposedly was getting close to a breakthrough in bringing Ed back. 

“I think I can, it might take awhile for me to get to your place though.”

“That’s fine….Thanks.” 

He ended the call then tried again to call Strange. He anxiously tapped his fingers against the desk as he listened to each resounding ring, counting each one that went unanswered before finally it ceased. He snapped his phone closed and tossed it onto the desk. He sat down in his office chair.

He worried now that perhaps the building collapsed, it could have caved in upon itself and crushed everybody inside. He felt a panic thinking about Ed, thinking about losing him permanently. He rubbed his hand over his face and groaned. He hated himself for not being able to just let him go, he knew what he was doing was wrong on many levels, but he couldn’t help himself. 

There was something morbidly ironic in wanting to revive the man who shot him and threw him in the river a year ago. 

Love, he loved him, and he always would. He smiled to himself thinking about the fact that Ed had seemed willing to try, to genuinely forgive him for what had happened between them all that time ago. He’d hoped they could further work things out, that perhaps there was a sense of love there. He felt almost sick with grief thinking about him, thinking about the last time they had spoken before Sophia had gotten hold of him. The gentle warmth in his smile and the way he looked at him, the feeling of his hand against his arm, and the promise that they could work things out. 

It could have worked, it still could work.

He rubbed at his eyes wiping away tears. He told himself things were fine, that there was a good reason for Strange not being in contact with him, that nothing bad happened. 

Still a sense of impending dread hung over his head even after Zsasz arrived ready to take him through the hellscape they called home, so that they could see exactly what was keeping Strange from contacting them. 

Riding through the city didn’t help ease his mind at all, his anxiety only increasing as he watched people running around like terrified animals. He swallowed hard as they drove past the apartment that once upon a time belonged to his mother, the building was mostly collapsed. He looked away feeling a familiar pain in his chest thinking about it, thinking about her. Thinking about everybody he had lost in his life either due to his own selfishness or his stupidity. 

“Looks like a zombie movie.” Victor commented casually.

Oswald looked over at him, he wondered if any of this bothered him, or if it amused him more than anything. Knowing him, he doubted he was bothered by the chaos.

“It’s horrific….Look at them running around like complete morons, within an hour they’ll start looting shops.” He stated bitterly as he watched people climbing through the busted-out windows of buildings. 

People were selfish horrible animals at their core, he knew that better than anybody else.

Victor chuckled, “It’s kinda funny don’t you think?” He asked glancing over at him, he assessed that his boss in fact found no amusement in this and turned his attention back to the street.

The inner workings of the city were behind them as they moved on towards the outskirts were old buildings stood nearly forgotten by time. The only people who seemed to remember the buildings were those up to no good, Oswald had heard rumors that Valeska had been brought back from the dead in one of these buildings, apparently with nothing more than a good jolt of electricity.

He tapped his fingers against his leg as they drew closer to the building where Ed and Strange were located, he noted that damage to the buildings at least on the outside was minor, that was a good sign.

The moment that the car came to a stop Oswald was getting out, he quickly made his way up to the door with Zsasz trailing not too far behind him. He could practically hear his heart pounding as he opened the door and stepped into the mostly darkened building.

“Strange, where the Hell are you?” He called out, angered frustration in his voice as he walked through the building.

It felt empty, it felt abandoned and like it had been this way for years. Anxiety only grew when there was no response, he continued through until he reached a back room. The door to the room stood open, dim light filled the room making it slightly possible to see. Inside the room were counters along the right hand wall, all cluttered with glasses and beakers and medical equipment. In the center of the room was a metal table, the same table they had laid Ed’s body on, but now it stood empty. Near the window across from the door stood Hugo Strange, hands behind his back as he stared out at the nothing that surrounded them.

“Where the Hell is he?” 

Strange didn’t respond, simply hummed to himself. 

Oswald approached him, he grabbed him by the arm and roughly turned him to face him, Hugo stared down at him as if he were something filthy that had no right to touch him. He thought about his time in Arkham, the sneers and the way Strange treated him like a child or a pet. He felt sick thinking about it.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Ed, where the Hell is he?”

“It’s a pity really, I was so close.” He said sighing heavily.

Oswald grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him back against the wall. “What happened, I swear to God if you don’t tell me what the Hell you did, I will kill you.”

“It was a failure, the power got knocked out due to the earthquakes, and before the backup generator could kick on I lost him. What I mean to say is he’s dead, well continues to be dead.”

He could practically feel his heart shatter. Oswald looked down, he counted to ten then back again as he tried to steady himself before looking up again.

“Where’s hi-where’s the body?”

“About that, I presumed there was no use in keeping it so I disposed of it.”

Oswald shoved him to the floor, he reached into his jacket retrieving his gun. “You son of a bitch, who gave you the right to do that?” He yelled at him, Strange crawled backwards now seeming genuinely nervous.

“It’s not like you’d have a funeral for him, besides he wasn’t quite presentable for one, and with the earthquakes I doubt burying the dead will be possible for some time.” 

He aimed the gun at his left knee. Strange screamed in pain when the bullet pierced his knee cap shattering it. 

“You had no fucking right to do that, he wasn’t one of your monsters. He was my friend, I told you to revive him, I didn’t tell you to experiment on him. I can’t believe I actually thought you could do one simple job without….” He aimed between his eyes, grip on the gun tight.

Strange backed up until his back was pressed against a counter, his chest rose and fell with heavy pained breaths as he stared up at the man who was close to killing him.

“Victor, can you please call Headhunter, and have him take Dr. Strange here to the GCPD. Just tell them he escaped, and Headhunter caught him, don’t let anybody know about this.”

“I’ll tell them everything.” Strange interjected as if he held the power to actually be a threat.

Oswald moved closer to him, towered over him. He leaned down pressing the barrel of the gun against his forehead. “I don’t think you do. See I know a lot of people in Blackgate, cops, and prisoners….I can easily arrange for you to be torn to shreds. Nobody will stop it, they’ll just watch, and listen to your screams of pain.”

Strange stared back at him, he nodded the slightest bit as if fully understanding the situation at hand. 

“Good.” 

He straightened up and put his gun away, he left the room leaving Zsasz to handle the situation. Once he was outside the weight of everything hit him. He let out a choked sob as he punched the wall groaning at the stinging pain that shot through his hand. Gone, no goodbye he was gone. He almost wanted to know what Strange had meant by disposal, but he didn’t have the heart or temperament to handle whatever the answer may be.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered to himself.

The words felt so useless. He knew what he’d tried to do was wrong, it was selfish, and wrong. It was all for nothing, Ed was still gone. 

He’d been so hopeful, he’d hoped that he could be revived, and they could pick back up where they left off. 

He felt perhaps this was what he deserved for being selfish, for trying to force the world and its inner workings to bend and break in his direction. He’d just for once wanted to have somebody in his life that couldn’t leave him and he’d always considered Ed to be that person.


	3. Chapter 3

Due to the chaotic destruction caused by the multiple earthquakes it became more difficult to hunt down Sophia. Oswald focused his time on building a new night club, one that would be built into the chaos and against the grain. He’d found a perfect spot carved out where offices once stood, he offered to pay construction workers not only in money, but also water and food rations for their work. It was safe to say that things were coming along well and rather quickly, a month in and the new club was nearly complete, though he still found himself at a loss of what to name it; he’d considered Glacier but wasn’t attached to the name. He busied himself in work; his business of permits was on hold for the meantime, even he could care less if they had permission to murder and rob. He did though jot down notes and plans on ways to put things under control, the police were barely handling it. The last time he’d seen Bullock he’d been drinking out of a flask in a wrecked cop car and Gordon seemed on the brink of total mental collapse. There were rumors of somebody all in black rounding up criminals, a couple of Penguin’s territories had been hit rather hard; when he’d questioned his men about what happened all they could say was some freak in black attacked them. 

The last Oswald had checked various areas were taken over by different people for various reasons. Some just wanted to claim a piece of Gotham for themselves, a haven that if one trespassed into the trespasser would meet with a violent and unseemly end. The last he had seen and heard the park had been over taken by Poison Ivy, a part of him genuinely considered trying to speak to her, to apologize for the way he’d treated her. He doubted though that she would want to hear from him, not after the way he’d treated her, cruelly after she’d put so much trust into him. He supposed that was his curse, he had a knack for hurting and pissing off those who cared about him. He’d heard that the park was overgrown, it resembled a rain forest overflowing with hybrid plants ready and willing to kill anybody who dare to near too closely. He’d heard a rumor from Headhunter that she was turning people into horrific plant monsters, but he doubted that.

Where an ice rink once stood was now a cavern of ice and snow. Victor Fries had made a nice home for himself, Oswald had visited once or twice looking for advice on themes for his new club as well as asking him to keep an eye out for Sophia, the man understood the pain of losing the person you loved. Oswald was grateful for his help, in return he continued to give him all the supplies and finances he may need to both look for a cure to his condition, but also to help him make new weapons and tech to arm himself and his gang. 

Oswald had heard rumors of a crocodile man in the sewers as well as a man obsessed with rats, both roaming around, one more dangerous than the other. Each section of the city appeared to be over run and controlled by various criminals; some territories he avoided. He stayed clear of the district run by Jerome and Jeremiah Valeska, the twins had a strong hold over an old amusement park turned into a horror show of a circus. Victor and Headhunter often told him things they heard about the territory, about a grotesque man in a pig mask who was escorted by mutilated people in doll dresses and porcelain masks attached to their faces. He heard that it was a three-ring circus from Hell run by nightmarish clowns. It was the type of chaos Oswald despised, he himself had done things that were less than savory, but he saw no point in chaos that was artless, that held no purpose.

Mostly Oswald stayed home. If he busied himself with his plans and his ideas then he didn’t dwell on things that depressed him deeply. He looked at the scattered papers on his desk, he ran his fingers through his slicked back hair and sighed heavily. He smiled sadly looking at the question mark he’d drawn at the top right corner of a page.

“Ed would have brilliant ideas, he always did.” He spoke softly to himself.

He fondly remembered Ed’s assistance. He remembered visiting him close to every day in Arkham, baking treats and tailoring clothes for him, just gifts to show that he appreciated him, to show him somebody cared about him. Oswald had never really fallen in love before, not exactly. In high school he’d feel affection for a classmate, he would have crushes that ended quite terribly; nobody wanted the chubby kid who lived in the bad part of town and had no dad. It wasn’t until he was an adult that he found what it felt like to be looked at, to be seen in a positive way. He knew he’d do anything to get back to that, back to the loving way Ed used to look at him when things were good. 

He did try everything to get that back though. He still hated himself for that, for thinking he had any right to try and reanimate the dead, for thinking that Hugo Strange could be remotely trusted. He was a fool to do such things, he should have been an adult about this, and just given Ed the proper burial that he deserved.

Still the realization he was dead hurt, he almost felt like he found a new curse word when he thought or spoke aloud that Ed had died. It felt dirty and wrong.

His phone rang startling him, he watched as the cell phone vibrated moving an inch along his desk before he picked it up and answered it.

“Hey boss, found Sophia. Where do ya want us to take her?” 

Oswald smiled at that news, he felt a sick bubbling excitement. “Our usual spot, trust me she doesn’t deserve any special treatment. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Got it, see ya.”

He snapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. He grabbed his cane, got up from behind the desk and made his way around to the other side.

“Well looks like she couldn’t hide forever, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He said smiling, he looked down at the brown and white bulldog that stared up at him with bloodshot brown eyes.

He leaned down and pet the dog’s head, rubbing behind its ear. The dog followed him to the front door, claws tapping on the hardwood floors, per usual routine it stopped and sat down watching his owner leave the home knowing he would most definitely return.

 

When he arrived to the warehouse two of his men were posted outside, guns in hand. He nodded at them, the man on the left opened the door holding it open for him. The inside of the building was rather gutted, at one time it was meant to store equipment and boxes of shoes and clothes, but that time was gone. Now it was empty and dead, his footsteps echoed in the large building, near the back of it he found Zsasz and Headhunter, the two chatting about 80s action movies and which was better. He barely paid mind to them arguing if Terminator was better than Rambo, if Arnold could beat up Stallone. 

Sophia was strapped down to a chair, tape over her mouth; he was grateful for that. If she spoke he’d get angry, well angrier than he already was. The moment he laid eyes on her he felt disgust and rage; he thought about how she came to Gotham looking to mark her territory, how his immediate thought was to shoot her in the head, but he’d given her a chance. He’d been lonely and she was smart, in some respects she reminded him of Ed and even of himself. He knew realistically that what she did, killing Ed to hurt him was something he would do to an enemy. He’d done that before; hurt and killed somebody’s loved ones before finishing them off, but he couldn’t let this slide. 

He walked over to the table set up to her right, upon it lay medical equipment and power tools. He looked at the power drill and felt sick, thought about how she’d had it used on Ed. The inside of his mouth had been a horror show after the Dentist had gotten done with him, the rest of his body had been riddled with knife wounds from where she’d practically gutted him.

“You know you’re far from the first person that’s hurt me this way, I’ll admit it took me longer to get you than the others.” He picked up a scalpel, hummed as he looked at it. He turned to face her, she was glaring at him.

“I told you about my mom, I told you a lot of things about myself that I honestly probably shouldn’t have. I’ll admit to that, I have this problem, bleeding heart really….I tell people too much, I share with people, but I didn’t share everything. I didn’t tell you what I did to the brother and sister who took everything from me, who killed my mom. See I didn’t get the pleasure of killing Theo, not the first time, but the second time I blew him up. Now his sister Tabitha….” Oswald pressed the blade against the top of her hand, smiled as he watched the blood seeping out of the clean wound as he drew it downwards, then curved it as he carved out a perfect circle of skin. Her screams were muffled as he peeled her skin away dropping it to the floor. “Now Tabitha, that took longer I’ll admit. She was romantically involved with my right-hand man at the time and then she was involved with a woman I deemed a friend. Give or take some months and some complications, I did finally get her.”

The legs of the chair scraped against the concrete floor as she jerked violently, he dragged the blade along muscles and viscera, blood spraying as he carved into the disgusting fleshy bits that lay beneath her skin. Everybody looked the same under it all.

“I gouged her eyes out first, I hated the way she was always looking at me. The way she looked at me after she’d rammed a knife into my mother’s back, that fucking look of amusement on her face as she watched me hold her while she died.” He felt that rage resurfacing. He tossed the scalpel to the side and picked up a kitchen knife, he slammed it into Sophia’s right shoulder leaving it there for a moment, his grip tight on the handle. He leaned in close staring her down. “I stabbed her, I stabbed that…That monstrous woman so many times that I lost count.” He twisted the blade before slowly pulling it out, blood spraying across his face. She continued to scream and he knew it was in pain and rage, there was a blood chilling rage in her dark eyes as she glared up at him.

“All you had to do was accept me, accept that despite everything I wasn’t going to kill Gordon, that I wasn’t going to change the way I run things. You seemed to at least understand some of that, but you’re a spoiled brat. You talk on and on about tradition and the way things are done, but you’re just as messy as me.” He stabbed into her left shoulder. “What you did to Ed, those….Those stab wounds….That wasn’t business, that was full blown rage. Trust me, I know.” He ripped the knife out, he growled as he slammed the blade into her throat. Her eyes went wide, head back and despite the tape he could hear the gurgling. He twisted the blood watching as it ripped up flesh, blood running out of the wound like a morbid waterfall. He could feel Zsasz and Headhunter watching him, their film debate dropped for the meantime.

He only removed the blade when her struggling stopped. He stepped back, let the knife drop to the ground. He breathed heavily, throat sore, he felt a strange exhaustion as if coming back to himself and reality as he stared at her. Nothing but a corpse, another person who hurt him, and stole what he loved from him. Now she was nothing just like all the others. He chuckled when he realized it solved nothing, made nothing better.

“You okay?” Headhunter asked, he sounded unsure of if that was a question he should be asking.

Oswald sighed, he smiled softly as he looked up at the man.

“No, I’m not. If you two would please clean this up, dispose of the body in the river.”

“Yeah sure thing boss.”

Oswald turned and began walking away from the two of them.

“So, which is better, original Robocop or remake Robocop?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, the original.”

Oswald rolled his eyes as he listened to their resuming movie debate, he was relieved to be outside back in the cool evening air. He found himself in very little hurry to get back home, as he drove through the city he surveyed the progress. Some buildings were being rebuilt, streets were mildly repaired. In the sky above were a few helicopters, they carried medical supplies and one carried food and water. He wondered how long until somebody shot them down, killed the pilots, and stole what they could. He smirked thinking about it, he knew the city well, and how greedy they all were. 

He remembered how he had been as a child, upset and annoyed with their status. That they lived in a one-bedroom apartment, that his mother had to give up a portion of her own room just, so her son could have a bed of his own. The times they couldn’t get food, the times she would go hungry just, so he could eat that month. He supposed a part of him then hated that he hadn’t had a father then, now that he knew the truth he loathed his own grandparents for what they did. He wished his father had tried to find her, things could have been different then. He hated that he didn’t get to know his father longer, he still damned Grace for taking him away like that.

It was sickly funny how none of it mattered. Theo, Tabitha, Grace, and Sophia were all dead; they all murdered people he would have done anything for, but it solved nothing. He was still alone, still living in a mansion where he kept pictures of his deceased loved ones out on display as painful reminders.   
By the time he arrived home it was dark, he preferred it that way. 

The moment he unlocked the front door he heard barking, he smiled to himself as he opened the door and stepped inside. His loyal pet ran up to him, nub of a tail wagging excitedly as he stood up on his hindlegs pressing his front paws against Oswald’s legs. Oswald bent down, pet his hand down his head and over his back.

“Hey Ed, I told you I’d be back. Have you been a good boy, keeping the house safe?” He asked, voice kind as he pet the dog.

He knew perhaps it was morbid and weird that he named the dog after his deceased friend, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even explain it.

He straightened up and made his way up the stairs, dog trailing behind him. Ed stopped outside the master bedroom looking at the door, he seemed confused when Oswald passed by the room and went to another one. He whistled for the dog to follow, he opened the door watching as his pet rushed into this new room.

Oswald smiled sadly as he stepped inside, nothing changed. A spare pair of Ed’s glasses were set on the stand next to the queen sized bed, on the dresser to the right of the door he spotted a black t-shirt tossed on its surface. Oswald shrugged off his jacket, he unbuttoned and removed his dress shirt. He tossed his clothes onto a nearby chair, he grabbed the t-shirt off the dresser holding it out to see what it was. He chuckled looking at the design of it, a heart-shaped mask with wide eyes, the words above and below the mask read ‘Legend of Zelda Majora’s Mask’. A game Ed played repeatedly, he bragged nonstop on how he’d beaten it time and time again, but still enjoyed not just the graphics and puzzles, but the music as well. A couple of times Oswald had sat by him watching him play, less interested in the game and more interested in him. He slipped the shirt on over his head, it was ridiculously big on him seeming more dress like than anything. It still smelled of him, a sweet smell from the far too specific shampoos he liked to use that always smelled of either peach or lavender. 

Oswald made his way to the bed, he kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, and removed his pants. He crawled into bed sighing happily as he curled up under the thick deep green comforter, in no time at all Ed hopped up onto the bed, sniffed his face then circled before laying down right next to him. The dog looked at him, groaned then closed his eyes. Oswald smiled softly, at least he wasn’t utterly alone.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey boss there’s something here you need to see.” Victor sounded off, normally he sounded casual or cocky, but at the moment on the other end of the phone he sounded hesitant.

Oswald pulled himself into a sitting position in his bed, Edward lifted his head looking at his owner curious as to why he was awake before noon.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the library, how soon do you think you can get here?”

He ran his fingers back through his tangled mess of black hair, he felt groggy and annoyed. For him it was too early to deal with this, whatever this was.

“Just tell me what the Hell it is, I’m not driving to the library just because you found something.”

There was a long pause, the kind filled with pregnant tension that made him momentarily terrified, but he had no clue why.

“It’s….It’s Nygma.”

Oswald’s breath caught in his throat, eyes widening. He could feel his heart pounding, fingers going numb. He didn’t wait for Victor to say anything more, he doubted Victor even expected for him to have a verbal response to that name. 

Three months.

He snapped his phone closed and got out of bed, he stumbled as he rushed to his closet pulling out a black dress shirt and a pair of black slacks. His hands were shaking as he pulled on his clothes, he could hardly care how he looked, he just needed dressed.

It had been three months since Ed died, since he took his body to Dr. Strange; so many months since Hugo gave him the news that Ed couldn’t be revived and that he’d disposed of his corpse. He felt lightheaded, felt like crying or screaming; he didn’t know if Victor meant he found his corpse or found him….No.

He wasn’t getting his hopes up.

Once he got his shoes on and grabbed his cane he was out the door, it was far too early in the morning for people to be out crowding the streets in the way that they typically did these days. The street was mostly clear minus the stray corpse or two. It wasn’t long until the looming library came into view, the roof of the building was partially collapsed from the quakes months ago. He pulled up at the curb, got out and slammed the car door behind him. It felt like a million years as he rushed up the steps and towards the large double doors of the building, a building Ed used to frequent rather often until they were living together, until he had a library of his own to offer him. He remembered evenings of Ed in the study, curled up on the chase lounge and reading, cup of tea at his side on the table. He always looked peaceful, happy, and Oswald used to want to keep it that way. But he’d ruined that.

He pushed open the doors and entered the building; he was hit with the stench of old books, mold, and musk. Light shone through from the gaping hole in the domed ceiling almost like a light from heaven shining down on wretched creations. Books were scattered over desks and the floor, it reminded him of movies where people would find piles of gold and jewels but replace that with books. He made his way through the piles and the stacks until he spotted Victor, the man appeared to be waiting for him. 

“What, where….Where is he?” Oswald asked, voice shaking just the slightest bit.

Victor looked at him, Oswald tried to discern what the look was, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was a look that said, ‘sorry for your loss’ or ‘I can’t explain what I just found’. He pushed past his friend and made his way towards a desk towards the corner. 

Oswald froze in his tracks. 

Ed was seated at the desk; his hair wasn’t styled the way it was from before, it now was shaggy and dark hanging down in a tangled mess, he looked horribly pale, his brown eyes looked both exhausted and lost. He got up from the chair and took cautious steps towards Oswald, he stopped a safe distance away from him as if terrified of what would happen if he moved closer. Under the light Oswald noticed his clothes weren’t the ones he’d died in, he was dressed in khaki slacks and a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up revealing crude black markings of question marks and words. 

Oswald rushed towards him, he practically slammed into him as he wrapped his arms around his waist and hid his face against his chest. His body was racked with sobs as he fell apart there, breathing in the scent of cheap soap and moldy books, a scent that somehow was perfectly Ed. 

“I’m sorry” He whispered against him, he didn’t know exactly what he was apologizing for. Apologizing for making a deal with Strange, for not being more careful with him, for letting Sophia kill him, for not looking for him. He was sorry for so much, for everything.

He gasped feeling Ed’s fingers tentatively touching the back of his head.

“Oswald.” His voice was rough, unsure.

They both felt unsure of this, of what was real, if this was real.

Oswald pulled back to look up at him. “You’re, you’re alive….Strange he told me, he told me that he couldn’t revive you.”

Ed looked solemn, anxious even, and Oswald felt another pang of guilt. 

He had a million questions, millions of questions and a fear of what the answers might be.

“He lied.” Ed answered simply after a moment of silence. 

Oswald’s eyes closed when he felt fingers touching his cheek, brushing away his tears. He felt too exhausted and lost and hurt and happy to even find time for the rage he knew he should be feeling about Hugo Strange.

“How long have you been living here?” He inquired looking up at him, he found himself still so close to him just needing that warmth of existence.

“I-I’m not really sure.” He laughed, a nervous empty sound. “Does anybody really keep track of time around here lately?”

Oswald smiled softly, “Not exactly, but until right now I’d presumed you were dead for about three months and five days.” He spoke quietly as he touched the crude tattoos that trailed along his exposed forearm.

There was a resumed silence, but it felt nice in an odd way. He worried this was a dream.

“Do you think we could, we could go home?” Ed inquired, the way he asked hinted that he wasn’t sure he should call it home.

Oswald never stopped thinking of it as their home.

“I think that would be a good idea.”

The two continued standing close, tentative touching just to feel grounded. It was a moment more until they pulled apart and followed Zsasz out to the car. Oswald got into the backseat with Ed, was content to have Ed sitting so near to him, happy almost when Ed took hold of his hand holding it tightly. As they rode through the city he watched the way Ed looked out the window, that confused sort of fear as he saw what happened to their city. Oswald also noticed scars along his neck and behind his ear, he could feel rage building up the more he began to realize what Strange had done. The way he’d lied. He felt sick with himself.

“An earthquake did this?”

“Multiple earthquakes practically made the city collapse.”

“I-I awhile ago went to the Lounge…”

“Disaster zone isn’t it? I still feel a bit gutted when I pass it by, but I have a new club. Once you’re settled in and things are sorted out, I’ll take you there, show you around.”

Ed looked towards him, smiled, and Oswald remembered so many times of him smiling at him that way. It made him feel cared for, normal.

Oswald felt nostalgic when they pulled into the drive, he could hardly remember the last time they came home together. The memory was there, but he’d buried it so deeply not wanting to remember the last of anything. 

The two of them got out of the car, watched as Zsasz pulled out of the drive and made his way back into the city. At this point Oswald figured he was going to go to Headhunter’s apartment where they’d kill time playing video games instead of patrolling like they were supposed to be doing. He didn’t care, they were good at their job when they did it. 

Oswald took hold of Ed’s hand, he led him up to the front door. From inside he could hear barking, he smiled to himself feeling almost bad that he’d left his dog without saying goodbye. He unlocked and opened the door, immediately Edward was on him demanding being pet. Oswald bent down scratching behind the dog’s ear.

“Hey buddy, I’m sorry I just left like that, daddy promises he’ll stay home the rest of the night.” 

He could feel Ed staring at him. He straightened up and turned his attention back to his old friend who was now looking down at the dog who sat wagging its tail.

“You have a dog now?” He asked.

Oswald smiled, “I got lonely and I found the poor thing tied to a pole not long after the quakes. It felt wrong just to leave him there.” 

Ed nodded, he crouched down and whistled for the dog to come to him, Edward ran up to him excited to meet the new person in the house. Ed smiled as he began petting the dog.

“I always wanted a dog when I was a kid, my dad never would allow it.”

“Well now you can have one.” 

Ed looked up at him smiling softly, Oswald knew it was bold to assume anything. That Ed wanted to live with him again, that he’d want to consider anything theirs.

“What’s his name?”

Oswald looked away, he blushed now feeling ridiculous and weird for naming his dog after his previously deceased friend. “I, well actually I named him Edward.”

“You named your dog after me?” Ed asked slowly.

“I know it’s weird, I just, you were gone, and I just….I don’t know.”

He felt so suddenly defensive and moronic. He tensed when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Might get confusing having two Edwards around, but I guess it’s oddly flattering you named him after me.” 

Oswald sighed, relaxed slightly. He turned his attention back to Ed, he still was finding this strange. He felt himself going from utter shock to normalcy, as if nothing had changed, the past three months hadn’t happened at all. He reached up finding himself gingerly touching along the long scar that went down the side of his throat.

“If you want um you can take a bath, your room-I never changed anything there, all of your clothes are still there.” 

Ed nodded, muttered a ‘thank you’ before turning and leaving to go upstairs.

Oswald made his way to the liquor cabinet, he retrieved a bottle of crystal skull vodka and a shot glass. He took the items into the sitting room and seated himself near the fireplace, he was only humoring himself with the glass he thought as he poured the first shot. He downed it then started on a second. 

Strange had lied, what a shock. That still didn’t answer the question of how long Ed had been dead before being revived, why Strange had lied, or why he had so many tattoos suddenly. They looked self-made. Oswald wondered what he’d been through, why he hadn’t just sought him out when he was able to do so, was he scared of him?

He didn’t seem scared, if anything he was acting almost as if he hadn’t been dead at all. Like they hadn’t just spent a little over three months apart, one thinking the other was dead and god knows where. Perhaps he should have looked for him instead of just chalking it up to a permanent loss.

By the time Ed came downstairs Oswald was on his fifth shot. He looked to see Ed looking still tired, but better than he had before. He was wearing an old white V-neck and red flannel pants, Oswald smiled softly looking at him, his hair was still below his ears in length and falling in awkward curls as if unsure of what it should be doing. Oswald patted the seat next to him, Ed joined him keeping the space between them rather minimal.

“After you died I-I panicked. I had Strange work to bring you back to life, had him promise me that he wouldn’t do anything to you like he had to Basil and Fish or any of the others he experimented on. I just-I fucking hated thinking about losing you and I know that’s selfish. I’m a selfish man, you’ve always been right about that. It’s just, what she did to you, and the fact you didn’t give me up….I thought…” He trailed off, focus on his now empty glass.

He didn’t know if Ed wanted to hear his rambling drunken explanation or if he wanted to deal with so much so soon, but he needed to explain himself in some way.

“I’m a fool, I trusted that he feared me enough to keep his word. After the quakes hit I, I went to the building he was in, and he told me that you hadn’t….He told me he couldn’t revive you, that he’d disposed of your corpse. I should have known better. Ed, I’m so sorry.” He looked towards him, he prayed to God that he believed him.

Ed wasn’t looking at him, he was staring at the skull shaped bottle of vodka. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Are you mad at me?”

He shook his head, he looked towards him and he looked almost sad. “No, God no….I’m sorry I didn’t look harder for you. I was just scared.”

Oswald wanted to ask why he’d been scared but decided for now not to push it. “What did happen?”

Ed took the shot glass from Oswald, he reached over grabbing the bottle from the table and poured himself a shot, downed it, then took a second one. 

“He brought me back, I’d say maybe three days after I died….I don’t really know how long, it felt like….It felt like a thousand years being dead, being….There….” He trailed off staring at the ground before snapping out of whatever thoughts he’d just trapped himself in. “He kept me drugged, keep me from running, or just flat out killing him like I wanted to do. He ended up right before the quakes hit, he boxed me up in this makeshift coffin and sent me out. Told them I was dead, he paid them to take me to a lab.” He paused again, took another shot before continuing. “The car wrecked during the quakes, I escaped and….The library was close, I just holed up there. After that I just scavenged a lot, stole clothes from the thrift shop, used the shower in an abandoned apartment nearby, and took what food I could find even if it wasn’t much.”

He felt the urge to apologize again but stopped himself. Apologies meant very little in the scheme of things. 

Oswald reached out tracing his index finger along the curve of a question mark on Ed’s arm. He noticed that the words were riddles, riddles and question marks covered both arms from his wrists up to his biceps and Oswald wondered if there were more than even those. “Did you….Why did you?”

“I might have forgotten myself when I came back. All the drugs he had me on, then what happened to the city, and I just….I don’t really know how to explain it, I look crazy.” 

Oswald knew that wasn’t a whole truth, he could read him well and he knew he was keeping things to himself, but after what he’d gone through he didn’t want to press. He knew that possibly in time Ed would tell him more and that scared him, he feared knowing more.

“You don’t look crazy.”

Ed smiled, “You’re too sweet.”

Oswald took hold of his hand, he felt a sort of nervous anxiety come over him. “I-Ed I….I love you. I know you don’t, you don’t feel that way about me, and that’s okay. That’s always been okay, but I just need you to know I never stopped feeling that way about you.” 

Ed looked away, Oswald worried he was disgusted by him.

“You shouldn’t love me.”

“People can’t help what they feel, trust me I’ve wanted to not love you quite a few times.”

“I’m going to go to bed, we can talk more later.” 

He felt hurt at those words, at the sudden emotional distance he felt when Ed got up from the couch. The way he didn’t look at him, just left the room leaving Oswald alone with himself and his paranoid thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

Oswald was woken by the sound of knocking on his bedroom door. He groaned, he rolled over onto his side and looked at the clock that sat on his bedside table, the digital numbers read that it was only a little after four in the morning. He closed his eyes and mentally readied himself before throwing off the covers and climbing out of bed. He made his way to the door, wincing at the tight pressure built up in his knotted knee. 

He opened the door to see Ed standing there, the man had his arms wrapped around himself and his shaggy brown hair looked somehow even more disheveled than it had before. In the dim light that poured in from the hallway Oswald could see the scars that peaked out from under his hair, they still made him mad at himself. 

“What is it?” Oswald asked, he felt groggy and confused.

“Sorry I know you were sleeping and it’s late, but….Could I maybe sleep in here?”

He continued to stare at the other man trying to evaluate what he’d even requested. The more he looked at Ed the more he noticed, like the glistening of tears that stained his cheeks. Oswald stepped to the side, gestured for his friend to come into the room. After a moment of hesitation Ed entered the room and Oswald closed the door behind him. 

Ed climbed into bed, he curled up under the comforter almost hiding beneath it. Oswald got into bed with him keeping a safe distance between them, he remembered sharing a bed with him years ago, the wall of pillows he insisted that Ed put between them. Now there was no such barrier, nothing that kept him from reaching out and brushing the tears from his cheek and thinking about how the last time he’d touched his skin he’d been so terribly cold. 

“You okay?”

Ed forced a smile, “Id’ be lying if I said I was okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, he took hold of Oswald’s hand giving it a gentle squeeze. “No, not right now.”

There was a sudden silence that fell between them, one that Oswald found himself content with. He closed his eyes relaxing when he felt a hand on his hip, fingers brushed up under the t-shirt he wore before gently tugging at it.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” Ed whispered.

Oswald chuckled, he opened his eyes looking at him. “Habit, I started wearing it after you…” His words trailed off and he felt the lump in his throat.

Ed brushed his fingers against his hip drawing him back into the moment, into their present current situation where he was well and alive. 

“You can have it back if you want it.”

“No that’s okay, it looks good on you.” Ed admitted.

Oswald moved the slightest bit closer to him, he could feel the warmth of his body and the feeling of warm breath against his face. Ed was watching him, staring at him as if he were trying to recognize him and memorize him all at once.

“I have the worst fear that you’re still dead and I’ve just lost my mind completely.” He confessed, he worried voicing his fear would bring it to fruition.

Still though Ed was in his bed, his warm hand was still firmly placed against his bare skin, and those deep brown eyes were still looking at him as if he were possible worth something.

“I’m alive, promise.”

Oswald reached out placing a hand against his chest, he smiled softly feeling his heart beating. He could feel each breath, each sign of life that hadn’t been there months ago. “I never want to lose you again.”

“You won’t, I still don’t know why the Hell you want me to begin with.”

“You’re my first love.”

The reason felt so simple, but the way Ed looked at him made him feel like it was the most insane reason in the universe.

“I hurt you so badly, I can’t….I do not deserve a chance with you.” 

“Do you, do you love me though?”

Ed continued to rub his hand along his side, his touch was loving and caring. 

“Yes, and that terrifies me.” He admitted.

“Why?”

“Can we….Could we talk about that later, I promise I’ll tell you, but right now I just, I just want to be with you.”

Oswald nodded, he wrapped an arm around his waist and curled up against him. Ed held him closely as if needing the reminder that they were really together in this way.


	6. Chapter 6

Over breakfast Ed had told him that he was willing to talk, to tell him about the things he hadn’t been all too sure how to tell him. When he’d brought it up he said it quite plainly, that professional clipped tone to his voice that Oswald learned meant he was nervous about something. He couldn’t help but worry that most of what he was keeping to himself had to do with side effects of being brought back from the dead or side effects of whatever Strange had done to him. 

He still felt as if he hadn’t spent the early morning with Ed in his bed holding him like he might lose him, he wondered why the Hell he wanted to be close to him, why he was willing to love him back. He knew it was his own guilt projecting itself, but he felt perhaps playing God had been a terrible idea.

Later in the evening Oswald sat on the sofa while Ed stood looking at the fireplace seemingly mesmerized by the way the flames flickered and slowly swayed as if dancing. He smiled then let out a laugh before falling quiet again.

“It’s funny there’s absolutely no fire there.” Ed eventually said, tone casual.

Oswald furrowed his brow as he stared at him, he opened his mouth to ask him what he was talking about, but then the realization struck him, and he fell silent.

Ed turned to look at him, despite the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips there was a deep fearful sadness in his eyes.

“I grew up in a Christian household, I admittedly could never just shrug off the idea that God exist. Then when Jerome Valeska came back from the dead spouting off that it was boring, that there was absolutely nothing but darkness I felt…. Annoyed I should say. I hated that that ridiculous mutilated clown found the biggest answer in the world before me, but also irritated that he claimed there was just nothingness when we die. It just felt bleak and pointless really.” He ran his fingers back through his hair, he seemed suddenly nervous as if now he’d come to an impasse where he wasn’t quite sure what to say next.

“The problem is that there….There is an afterlife, all of it exist, and the only reason that lunatic experienced nothingness is because anything that Hell could have thrown at him he would have enjoyed immensely.” He seemed almost bitter, maybe just possibly jealous for a moment. He took a seat next to Oswald on the sofa but kept a distance between them. “Hell is…..They put each person in a box, each box contains your worst moment from when you were alive. Like a greatest hits of your worst sins. They made me relive Kristen’s death until I rather quickly reached a point where I no longer felt guilt over it. Then they changed to something that I couldn’t get used to or stop hating myself for.” He stopped again swallowing hard.

Oswald reached over placing a hand on his knee, Ed tensed beneath his touch and looked away from him as if ashamed.

“I….That day, that early morning on the docks when I killed you. I could never get over it or forgive myself for it. Each time they made me relive that moment I swear it just killed me more and more, I’m at the point now that it’s just constantly playing in my head, and I hate myself so much for what I did to you….That’s why I didn’t seek you out when Strange brought me back, I just couldn’t face up to seeing you again.” 

He hurt for him and he knew that he probably shouldn’t considering Ed was the one who had hurt him that day, but he couldn’t help it. It made him sick realizing he’d been in Hell though it shouldn’t be too surprising, he knew it was just their destiny for all the murders they had caused. 

“Ed, I forgave you a long time ago for that, for all of that.”

“You shouldn’t, you should still be pissed at me….God you should have just shot me in the head when you had the chance, I don’t understand how you can still want me.” There was disgust in his voice, he glared down at his hands that he kept balled up on his lap. 

Oswald moved closer to him, he placed a hand against his cheek brushing away the tears staining his skin. 

“I love you, you’re the first and only person I’ve fallen in love with. You’re here with me now, everything’s okay.”

Ed turned to look at him, there was so much pain in his eyes.

“I love you Oswald.” He whispered, voice broken and emotional.

There was a relief when he kissed him, knowing that he was there with him and not in some cell in the depths of Hell being tortured by his own past. Oswald tangled his fingers in his hair, held him close as they kissed. In the back of his mind he knew eventually Ed would end up back in that place, but for now he was home and he was safe with him. 

“I promise I won’t let anybody else hurt you.” Oswald whispered against his lips. He stroked his fingers against his cheek just needing that contact and the warmth of his skin to know he was alive.

He shivered when Ed placed a hand on his hip, he remembered their morning and feeling those same hands touching his bare skin just adoring him and making him feel loved.

“I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for bringing me back.” Ed said as he pulled him onto his lap.

Oswald chuckled. “You can thank me with dinner followed by spending the rest of the night in bed together.” He told him before kissing him again this time more passionately.

If he pushed those three months out of his mind then this felt normal, if he pushed even a year out of his mind then this felt like the way he’d wanted things to go such a long time ago. He felt grateful that he was given yet another chance to do this right.


End file.
